


Nothing's louder than love

by Moppipoika



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, M/M, Softcore Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-06 17:20:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14061699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moppipoika/pseuds/Moppipoika
Summary: Stiles' life hasn't worked out like he had planned it to. Now, years after he and Derek broke up, he finds himself standing in front of Derek's door.





	1. A permanent ache

**Author's Note:**

> I literally have no idea where this came from, but it did and here we are.  
> Hope you guys enjoy <3

“Dammit Stiles, again?!”

Stiles slammed the fridge door shut, pretending he couldn’t hear the yelling from the other room, and calmly opened the glass bottle he had taken from the fridge. He dragged himself to the living room where he slumped on the couch and watched how his best friend Scott stormed all over the apartment with two bags in his hands; the other one full of dirty clothes and the other one full of empty cans and bottles.

“You promised me, Stiles,” Scott said and threw a disappointed glance at Stiles, but Stiles simply continued to act like he couldn’t hear a thing. “You promised to stop.” Scott threw both of the bags to the corner of the room that was closest to the doorway and turned to look at Stiles with his arms crossed. “You were supposed to call me if something was wrong,” Scott said, and after that, Stiles finally got up from the couch.

This wasn’t the first time for something like this to happen, oh no, they had found themselves in situations almost identical to this way too many times before, and still, Scott was acting like this. Stiles had told his friend many times to not yell at him, to not act like he had done something wrong, but to speak in a peaceful, calming manner because that was the only way to get Stiles to actually listen to him. Screaming and accusing him of everything only made him see red.

“ _ If _ something was wrong?” Stiles repeated Scott’s words with a trembling voice before emptying half of his bottle with just a few gulps. “Something’s  _ always  _ wrong, Scott! But do you care?” He gulped down the other half of the bottle. “No! Because why would you, huh? Why would you care about your stupid, mentally unstable friend, when you can just run off all the way to fucking Japan with your beautiful wife and forget about your stupid friend’s stupid problems?!”

“We tried to help you, Stiles,” Scott’s voice was almost desperate now, and Stiles knew it was only a matter of time before Scott would once again run away and leave him dealing with his problems by himself. “Malia, Liam, Kira… everyone did.”

Unwanted, embarrassing tears rolled down Stiles’ cheeks as he listened to his best friend talk. Well, he wasn’t sure if it was still appropriate to talk about a best friend since they barely saw each other these days, and when they did, it went down like it did now. There had been much better times, not even so long ago, and there was nothing Stiles wouldn’t have been ready to do to get back to how it had been.

Stiles had married the woman of his life, Lydia. It hadn’t been the easiest relationship, but it had been an amazing one, and there hadn’t been a day when Stiles hadn’t felt like the luckiest man in the entire universe. After Lydia had graduated, they had moved back to Beacon Hills to live close to their parents, and even though Stiles could’ve worked in the FBI like he had dreamed, he had been happy to work under his father as a deputy. Scott had also moved back to Beacon Hills after graduating to work at the animal clinic and to keep everything involving anything supernatural in order, so Stiles had been able to keep his best friend by his side even after all the time they had spent away from each other.

Everything had been picture perfect, which alone should’ve warned Stiles; nothing could ever stay that way for too long. It was something Deaton had taught them when they had still been in high school; life can’t ever be all bad or good, and eventually, things have to go back to the middle. And Stiles’ life had been way too good for a long time already.

Unfortunately for him, things didn’t just go back to the middle, but straight to as bad as they could. Suddenly his father had been dying of an aggressive brain cancer, and right before the funeral Scott and Kira had flown off to Japan. It had been a punch in the face for Stiles, and for a reason he didn’t even quite understand himself, he had felt like Scott had done it on purpose, even though he knew it wasn’t the case. They had booked the flight almost six months before the funeral; there was no way they could have known something like that would happen right before they’d leave. And still, Stiles had felt like Scott had left him alone on purpose, like Scott hadn’t cared about him.

Pretty soon after the funeral, Stiles had stopped going to work. He couldn’t concentrate, he couldn’t talk, he almost never ate and barely slept. His mind had been a dark, scary place, and all the anxiousness and self-hate he had faced after his mother had died had come back twice as bad. Lydia had tried to help him, she really had, and Stiles hadn’t even tried to show any gratitude. It had been a complete waste of her time; it wasn’t possible for her to heal him when all he did was fight back, and pretty soon she had realized it, packed her bags and left.

It had been the last nail in the coffin. Stiles had fallen, and he had fallen hard. Where he had found himself was the absolute rock bottom for him, and he was still there; unable to get up and move on. His mind was stuck in a phase where all he could do was think about every little thing he had ever done or said wrong, and all he could come up with to ease his pain was alcohol and sleep.

Stiles knew he was wrong when he said Scott didn’t care about him or his problems. Scott had done so much, too much even, but for some reason, Stiles’ mind constantly told him it was nothing compared to the things Scott  _ could have  _ done.

“I trusted you, Stiles, and  _ once again _ you showed me why I shouldn’t have,” Scott said, his voice dripping disappointment and his words hitting Stiles like a million knives. “You need to leave.”

It was like Stiles’ heart stopped for a short moment. “What?” He couldn’t believe what he had just heard. “Y- you can’t throw me out. Just give me a chance, Scott, one chance and I promise I’ll change,” he begged, quickly walking closer to his friend. “Scott, please, I can change.”

Scott was clearly avoiding Stiles’ gaze and crossed his arms as he took a few steps back as Stiles got closer. “I gave you a chance, Stiles,” he said quietly. “I gave you so many chances to change, and I really believed you would, but you won’t, Stiles. I’ve started to think you don’t even try to.”

Stiles’ already shattered heart was in millions and millions of new pieces, all of them hurting him so badly he thought he’d die because of the pain. 

“So, what? You’re just gonna kick me out and leave me on the streets?” he asked, his voice as cold as it possibly could be. “You know what,” he soon said as he took a few slow steps back and raised his hands in the air. “I don’t care. Have a happy life.”

Stiles slammed the door as hard as he could after storming out of the house. He didn’t need Scott, he didn’t need anyone. He was perfectly fine on his own.

“Stiles!” Scott called after him, but he ignored it. If Scott wanted him gone so badly, he had no problems leaving. Still, deep inside, he wished Scott would’ve come after him to persuade him to come back. But when Scott didn’t, Stiles didn’t stop. He kept walking without looking back, because there was nothing for him to go back to anymore.


	2. Haunted by your shade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s hear from our favorite wolf ;)

“I’m gonna make some tea, you guys want any?” Malia asked with a smile as she got up from the huge, insanely soft couch.

“Make enough for all of us,” Peter answered with a small smile on his lips, his eyes never leaving the tv screen; they were watching Scrubs and apparently it was Peter’s new favorite thing since he hadn’t gotten up from the couch for the last five hours.

“I don’t need any,” Derek said quickly before Malia had the opportunity to disappear from the living room. “I’m leaving soon.”

Those were the magic words that made Peter turn away from the series they were watching, and focus his eyes on Derek instead. “The hell you are,” he said with a laugh as he tilted his head a bit. “He’ll have tea with us”, he said after staring at Derek for a while, and then returned to his original position to continue watching whatever it was that was happening on the screen.

Derek rolled his eyes with a sigh; he knew there was no point in arguing with his uncle. He gave a nod to Malia as a sign that he’d do as Peter wanted and stay for a little longer. It wasn’t like he wanted to leave, he just wanted to… well, leave. He had spent three days with the two of them already, and he was kind of homesick already. He, of course, enjoyed their company and was happy to visit every once in a while, but he was a lone wolf and needed his space.

And if Derek was being honest with himself, which he wasn’t, he also wanted to leave because of Malia. He liked her, he liked her a lot and was happy that she and Peter had gotten as close as they had, but whenever Derek hung out with Malia he heard news from Stiles. And he didn’t want to. Not because he hated Stiles or didn’t want to hear from him, it just hurt all too much. Even hearing the name made his heart clench in a way that made him want to cry.

At first, it had been because of the fact that he had lost Stiles. He had lost the love of his life because of one stupid mistake, but it had been a crucial one, and Derek had known right away he would never see the man again. Seeing anyone after that had been awful because everyone had known what he had done, and how it affected Stiles. All the judgmental looks and angry talks he had gotten from their friends had been too much for him, and he had decided it was better to disappear for a while, so that was exactly what he had done; he had left the country for a while so that everyone would maybe forget what he had done.

When Derek had come back home a year later, he had thought everything would be even a little bit better, and he had been more right than he could’ve ever imagined. The first thing he had heard was that Stiles had moved to Virginia for six months right after their breakup, and the remaining six months of Derek’s year away Stiles had lived with Lydia. Apparently, they had been happy. Stiles had been happy; “happier than ever” had been Scott’s exact words.

Knowing that Stiles was happy had made Derek feel extremely sad, and extremely happy, all at once. He still loved Stiles, so of course he had been happy to know Stiles was doing good after everything. But the fact that he loved Stiles also made him sad, even a little bit angry, to know that Stiles was happy with someone else.

As time had passed, Derek had done all he could to avoid talking about Stiles with people, but it always came up. Scott had been constantly going on and on about how awesome it was to see Stiles and Lydia get married, how great it was when they had all moved back to Beacon Hills, how exceedingly happy Stiles had been to become a deputy. Having to constantly hear about Stiles had eventually made Derek leave the country again; it had been a lot easier to live with his feelings without someone telling him how happy Stiles was without him all the time.

And still, even though Derek had left the country and decided to live in a bubble where Stiles didn’t even exist, he had called Peter every four weeks to ask about Stiles. He had only asked if everything was still okay, if Stiles was still happy, and after Peter had told him Stiles was still perfectly happy, he had hung up the phone.

But then, there had come a year when Derek hadn’t called, not even once. He had been busy helping Argent hunt down Kate, and since Stiles had been doing so good for so long he had figured he could trust in things staying that way. But when he had eventually made the call and asked about Stiles, Peter had hesitated for a bit, and Derek had instantly known something was wrong. Stiles’ father had died and Lydia had left Stiles.

Derek had been ready to return home, he had wanted to go to Stiles and offer his help, but Peter had disagreed. Peter had reminded him of what had happened between him and Stiles. “The last thing he needs right now is a reminder of what happened back then,” Peter had told him. And he had agreed, so he had stayed away and focused on other things instead.

He had never forgotten about Stiles, and his feelings had never disappeared, but when Derek had finally come back home it had been surprisingly easy to stay away from Stiles. The only times he actually thought about going back to the man he loved so much was when he heard Malia talk about Stiles. Peter had learned not to talk about it, and the others Derek saw so rarely that they never had the time to even mention Stiles.

And now, Derek just wanted to go back home so he wouldn’t have to face the situation where Malia would talk about Stiles again. “Thanks for the tea,” Derek said with a smile after finishing his drink, and put his now empty cup down on the table. “I’ll be going now.”

“Already?” Peter asked without looking away from the tv, but Derek could hear he was disappointed.

“Yeah,” Derek mumbled as he dragged himself to the front door. “I’ll see you in a few weeks.” Before Peter or Malia managed to answer him, he walked out to the rain.

It wasn’t a long trip to home, and he was more than happy to be back at the Hale house. He had renovated it after the first time he had been away, and lived in there now; he had given the loft to Malia and Peter to live in because he enjoyed living in the woods instead. There was nothing better than a rainy night when he could stare out the window into the darkness and just listen to the raindrops hit the walls; just him and his thoughts.

Laying in bed, listening to the rain had been his plans for the evening now as well, up until there was a knock on his door. With a confused frown, Derek got up and made his way downstairs. He had no idea who it would be, and why. He knew Scott had just come back from Japan with Kira, but he doubted they would visit him that late. He knew it wasn’t Liam, because Liam never came without Scott, and Derek couldn’t even come up with any reason for Liam to pay him a visit.

Derek opened the front door, and his heart missed a beat as he realized who the soaking wet man standing in front of him was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter to go until we’re done with this guys! I can’t wait for you all to read the rest of this ;-) 
> 
> Thanks for reading <3


	3. You and I, and some we tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand the final chapter!

* * *

It was too dark for Stiles to be wandering around the woods, and his clothes were soaked - had been pretty much since he had stormed out of Scott’s apartment, which he had regretted doing the second he had done it. He couldn’t for the love of it understand why he had left like that. He knew Scott hadn’t meant he should just run into the night, he knew Scott didn’t hate him. Even if the part of him that knew it was buried somewhere deep under the _Scott hates me more than anything_ -thoughts, he knew it.

All of a sudden Stiles realized he was standing in a very familiar spot, in a place he hadn’t visited in years. The Hale house had apparently been renovated at some point; something Stiles had no idea of until now. He didn’t know if it was because of how cold he was because of the rain, or because of all the memories, but his whole body shuddered with chills.

He wasn’t really sure why he was there. He sure as hell hadn’t walked there on purpose, no, it was one of the last places he’d go in a situation like this. _He_ was the last person on earth Stiles would go to when he needed a shoulder to cry on or someone to tell him everything was going to get better. No, he’d go to literally anyone before going to _him_. Hell, he’d even go and ask help from Lydia before _him_.

And still, no matter how badly the hatred towards _him_ filled Stiles’ heart, he couldn’t deny the spark of… yearning underneath it all. He didn’t want to feel it, but he did. He didn’t want to miss _him_ , but he did.

He missed Derek.

Suddenly he realized he was standing on the porch, his hand raised and ready to knock. He really didn’t know why, but for some probably extremely stupid reason, he felt like he should do it. It didn’t make sense. He didn’t even know if it was actually Derek who lived there; all he knew it could’ve been Peter’s home now. Or Cora could live there. Back when Stiles had been with Derek, Derek had still lived in the loft, and the Hale house had been nothing more than ruins of a burned down house.

Stiles took a deep breath and knocked. Did he really want to do it? Probably not. Was he ready to face Derek after all these years if Derek actually happened to live there? Definitely not.

But the door opened, and it was too late to back out anymore because there he was, standing in front of Stiles, alive and in flesh: Derek Hale. And Stiles wanted to run. He wanted to run as fast as he could, and never come back. But as Derek’s green eyes studied him, he found himself unable to move. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was scared that history would repeat itself, or because in reality, he didn’t want to leave.

“Hi,” Stiles eventually forced himself to say, his voice weak and a bit hoarse from all the walking in the cold rain. He was slowly starting to think it had actually been a horrible idea to knock on the door, just like he had originally thought. “I, uh… I should go,” he mumbled and awkwardly rubbed his neck as he spoke, lowering his gaze to his feet when Derek’s stare started to get unbearable.

Just when Stiles was turning on his heels to leave, Derek grabbed him by the upper arm to stop him. Stiles let out a quiet whimper as the tight grip startled him, but Derek was quick to let go as soon as Stiles turned back to face him.

“Don’t go,” Derek quietly asked, his eyes so full of sadness and pain it made Stiles’ heart clench.

Stiles didn’t know what to do. He was sure staying and going inside with Derek would be the stupidest thing he’s done in years, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave either. Judging by the look on Derek’s face, Stiles wasn’t the only one going through an internal battle with himself.

“Do you wanna… come in?” Derek slowly asked after they had stared at each other in silence for the longest moment.

Did he want to? Stiles didn’t really know, but he nodded anyway, and when Derek stepped aside from the doorway he walked into the renovated house. Quietly Stiles followed Derek into a living room, sat down on a heavenly soft couch and watched as Derek uncomfortably paced from place to place.

“I was making myself tea,” Derek eventually said and stopped in his tracks to lock his eyes with Stiles’, “do you want a cup as well?”

Stiles’ lips curved into a faint smile before he gave Derek a nod as an answer. When Derek left the room, to probably fetch them the cups, Stiles let out a sigh. He was more than glad to be left alone for a moment, no matter how short it was going to be, because he really needed any time he possibly could to sort his thoughts. Because this was really happening, he was actually in Derek’s house, with Derek. His heart kept pounding in a pace so fast it made breathing a bit hard, but he wasn’t at all sure what caused it. Well, of course, Derek caused it, but was it because Stiles was scared or because he was… well, maybe even happy to be there?

“Here you go,” Derek said with a tone a bit more cheerful than earlier as he offered Stiles the other cup. “It was pretty hot so I added a little bit colder water in it, so you won’t burn your tongue,” Derek spoke in a rapid pace, clearly nervous about the situation, and Stiles had to fight back a laugh.

“I think I can manage a cup of hot tea,” Stiles quietly said, the smile on his lips a bit wider now. He took a sip of the steaming drink in his hands, embracing the warm, calming feeling flowing through his body. “But thanks anyway.”

Derek’s lips curved into a warm smile as he sat down on one of the two armchairs in the room, and took a sip of his drink, too. They sat in silence, both of them slowly sipping their drinks and staring out of the huge window behind the TV. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though. If Stiles hadn’t known better, he wouldn’t have guessed that the two people in the room had at some point dated each other and broke up with a huge fight. No, it was a nice silence, the kind where one could easily rest their eyes for a bit and accidentally fall asleep for hours, or just stare out the window for god knows how long like they did now.

Derek had stared out of the window for a good while before he had the guts to even glance at Stiles, but when he did, his heart melted right away. The younger man had fallen asleep on the couch, his head hanging in a position that looked extremely uncomfortable, and the teacup still in his hand. Derek couldn’t but stare at the adorable, and a little sad, sight and wonder how Stiles had managed to keep the tea from spilling even though he had dozed off, because Derek knew he wouldn’t have succeeded in that.

Carefully, with slow and quiet movements Derek walked to Stiles and took the cup from his hand, taking it back to the kitchen where he had to sit down and think about what was happening. Stiles had suddenly appeared in his porch, came inside, and was now peacefully sleeping on Derek’s couch. It was unbelievable, bizarre even. It wasn’t something Derek had ever even dreamed to actually happen.

After fetching a felt from the bedroom, Derek returned to the living room and crouched next to Stiles. Stiles’ other arm had fallen off the couch and was now hanging outside of it, so Derek gently lifted back to where it had been on Stiles’ lap. After that, he carefully placed the felt on Stiles.

He stayed there for a while, crouched next to the sleeping man he had missed for so many years, studying his worn out face with sad eyes. It was simply horrible to see what all those years after Stiles’ dad’s death had done to Stiles. Even though Stiles was sleeping peacefully, Derek could see that the happiness and joy had been sucked right out of him, and the last time Stiles had looked this bad had been right after the whole incident with the nogitsune.

Suddenly Stiles inhaled sharply, his expression changed from peaceful to miserable, and he started mumbling some nonsense in his sleep. He was obviously having a nightmare, and it kind of scared Derek because he had no idea what to do about it. He didn’t know how to help a sleeping person. He just knew he had to do something because Stiles _stank_ like fear and anxiety so badly Derek was sure the stink wasn’t going to leave the couch for at least a week.

After a short mental battle against himself, Derek slowly raised his fingers to gently caress Stiles’ cold cheek. It seemed to soothe Stiles a bit because his face relaxed as soon as Derek’s warm skin even slightly brushed against Stiles’. Encouraged by that, Derek placed his palm against Stiles’ cheek and started to gently caress it with his thumb, just like he had done many years ago every time Stiles had been even a little bit sad.

Stiles’ breathing calmed down, and against his will Derek retrieved his hand from Stiles’ cheek. But before Derek managed to get up from the floor, a cold hand reached for his arm, grabbing it loosely. Derek raised his eyes to Stiles’ brown ones.

“Stay.”

Stiles’ voice was barely even a whisper, but it was enough for Derek. It was enough for him to take his hand back to Stiles’ cheek and continue the gentle caressing while they silently stared into each other’s eyes. And before Derek even realized what he was doing, he slowly leaned closer to Stiles, gently placing a kiss on Stiles’ dry lips. It wasn’t really even anything one could call a kiss. It was just their lips barely brushing against each other before Derek came to his senses and pulled away from Stiles.

“I’m so sorry,” Derek hurried to say, afraid that he had already fucked everything up. But the corners of Stiles’ mouth curved into the smallest of smiles, hiding the almost disappointed look on his face.

“It’s okay,” Stiles whispered, his eyes locked on Derek’s.

Derek nodded. He knew Stiles was capable of saying it out loud if he was uncomfortable with what was happening; at least back in the day he hadn’t had any problems doing so.  
Maybe it was a bit reckless, and maybe Derek was pushing his luck, but he soon leaned back closer to Stiles. Only this time Derek kissed him properly. This times he pressed their lips together in a way that woke up all of his senses and turned the world upside down. Stiles’ other hand found its way to Derek’s cheek, and from there to behind Derek’s neck, pressing him just a little bit closer.

It was amazing, better than anything either of them had ever imagined. Derek hadn’t even dared to dream about kissing Stiles like this again in this life, and Stiles had buried his dreams of love and intimacy long ago.

Before long, their kiss deepened, Stiles’ fingers dived in Derek’s hair and Derek pressed himself closer to Stiles. But it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t close enough. Derek put away the felt he had brought to Stiles earlier, and got up on the couch with Stiles, gently placing himself astride on top of the younger man.

Stiles let his hands wander from Derek’s hair to the man’s chest, clinging to his shirt like his life depended on it. He didn’t have to say anything; the familiar gesture made Derek sit up straight for a short while, so he could take his shirt off before bending over to press his lips back to Stiles’.

Derek let his tongue sweep over Stiles’ lower lip, and with a low moan Stiles opened up for him, letting their breaths mix with each other. A groan escaped Derek’s throat as his hands grabbed Stiles’ hips, his fingers digging into Stiles’ skin as he pushed Stiles harder against the couch.

And oh, how Stiles had missed it. He had missed the way Derek kissed him, and the way Derek touched him.

Derek lowered his lips to Stiles’ neck, kissing and nibbling every inch of it while his hands lowered Stiles’ pants. After getting Stiles out of his jeans and boxers, Derek also removed Stiles’ shirt so eagerly that Stiles’ was sure he heard a seam rip.

Suddenly Derek was tracing a line of wet kisses down to Stiles’ chest, to his stomach and all the way to his hips, making him shiver as quiet giggles and gasps of pleasure escaped his parted lips. God, how he had missed the feeling of Derek’s hot breath against his sensitive skin. How he had missed Derek’s hot, wet tongue working its magic, making Stiles let out loud, luscious moans as he slowly came undone.

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles and lifted the younger man to his lap, pressing Stiles’ back against the couch’s backrest, hardly giving Stiles any time to catch his breath before crashing their lips against each other again. The kiss was hungrier than before, and Stiles could taste himself from Derek’s lips.

The living room was soon filled with moans of both pleasure and pain as they did what two passionate, turned on men did the best. And it was better than ever. Stiles kept clinging to Derek, his arms tightly wrapped around him like Stiles was afraid he was going to disappear. He placed quick pecks and nibbles around Derek’s neck between his moans, leaving quite a few love bites here and there. Derek’s hands were grasping Stiles’ hips tightly as he kept thrusting faster and harder by the second, eventually leaving them both sticky, sweaty and out of breath on the couch.

* * *

 Derek answered his phone before it managed to even ring properly: “Yeah?”

_“We need your help, Derek,”_ Scott’s voice was desperate. _“We can’t find him. We can’t find Stiles. He’s been missing the whole night and- “_

Derek cut him off with a short, quiet laugh. “He’s here, Scott,” he said calmly.

_“What?”_ Either Scott didn’t try at all, or he was just terrible at hiding how shocked he was by the news. But Derek didn’t blame him; he still couldn’t really believe it himself.

“Yeah, he came here last night,” Derek told his friend, slowly pacing around the bedroom. “He’ll probably stay with me, at least for a while. And he’ll call you when he’s ready.”

After Derek hung up, he turned to look at the brown-haired, naked man who was still sleeping in his bed, and smiled to himself. Maybe everything was finally going to get better for both of them, because they damn well deserved it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and leaving kudos, it means the world to me <3 I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it :)


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